


Interview Gone Weird

by Geek_with_a_Pen



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Arcade, Dialogue, Fiction, Gen, Haunting, Interview, Journalism, Male - Freeform, Narrative, Reporter, city, elder - Freeform, indoors, pager, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8035642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geek_with_a_Pen/pseuds/Geek_with_a_Pen
Summary: When a newbie reporter gets appointed for completing a veteran citizen and store column for the local paper, he soon finds that he's out of options until a ray of hope shines upon him. He hopes to interview the town's arcade owner in hopes of raising everyone's spirits with a bit of nostalgia. However, something goes amiss during the reporter's interview.





	Interview Gone Weird

It was a hazy, Saturday evening in a small and quaint town just close to being named a city. The sidewalks weren’t littered with many stores, and the few that were there could be memorized by every townsfolk with just one glance. Not much had changed for the town in decades, but there was a clear need for new breaths of fresh air. On this day, the beginning of the town’s anniversary, one newbie reporter was given the job of putting together columns for the veteran stores that were popular among everyone. The day would toll on from dawn until the present eve. Given his pity luck, the reporter was left to wander the streets without a single report in his stock. However, life would return to him as life played to his ears.

“Sir!” he called down the street to the man closing up his storefront at the corner of the avenue, his keys jingling in the door. The reporter was desperate, and the rotted fritz on the neon sign hanging above the store was a clear sign to him that this was the place that deserved a spotlight column. It had to have been a popular place back in its prime, but now it looked like a proper antique venue.

“What do you want, kid?”came his cold and flat reply. The old man had white scruff lining his chiseled jaw line, adding to his jock-like build and tall posture. He was wholly intimidating to the first time reporter, and his impatient glare wasn’t helping his nervousness at all.

“I..” The reporter swallowed his fear and straightened his stance, assuming himself back into the reporter mindset that his boss had etched finely into his brain. His voice cleared as he beamed a wondrous grin. “I would like to have an interview with you, sir. You are the owner of this fine establishment, aren’t you?”

The older fellow huffed as if it were an insult. “I might be. What’s it to you?” he grumbled. Given the reporter’s pose and fashion, it was severely unclear to what he reported for. Flustered, the reporter began to assert his argumentative side. “I’m no blogger, sir. I’m a humble reporter for the gazette! I’ve been put in charge of writing spotlight columns for older and honored stores. I can see that your store has a clear place in this town’s history.” A laugh came from the man, though it settled down from its volume with a quiet sigh. “Once upon a time, kid.”

The reporter urged on. “Then it’s settled! A historical column on your place will put it back in its glory days. Will you give me a chance, sir?” He held up his notepad and pen to emphasize his urgency in getting the interview. The youthful look in his eyes gave the man enough reason to chuckle again, turning back to his store’s entrance. “Sure, kid. I’ll bite. Let’s talk inside.”

The door swung open to expose the dark, and the man led the reporter inside. He flipped up a few switches to fill the room with fluorescent lights, illuminating rows upon rows of arcade cabinets. The walls shimmered with dark paint and bright neon stripes lining each wall. It was surprisingly a bright room for such dark color schemes, but what was important was the reporter had chosen a video arcade: a classic establishment. This would reach out to the adults with their childhoods still trapped back decades in the past, and business could potentially boom for this old-timer.

“This way,” the man beckoned, leading the reporter to a back door along the side of the room. The door would open and shut, and the pair would be in the arcade’s office. It was a stark contrast from the arcade room. The room was small, the walls covered in a boring gray. File cabinets hid behind the desk planted in the middle of the room. Two chairs sat opposite from the desk, facing it. The man moved behind the main desk, gesturing to his guest to sit with him in one of the chairs across from him. The reporter sat quickly, eager to start the interview, but objects riddling the top of the desk captivated the reporter's attention. A few unnamable action figures, in/out stacks of paperwork, and a pager covered most the desk, but they were among the only noticeable and noteworthy objects. Shaking himself from the train of thought, the reporter leaned forward on the edge of his seat, readying his pen to begin rapid-firing his questions.

The first few questions were easily done and over with. “What is the name of your store”, “what do you specialize in”, and “how has your business treated you over the years” were among the obvious for a proper column, but then the reporter launched into more detailed questions about the cherished establishment. “What is your favorite among all the old classics”, “what is your best thing to see during your business hours”, and “how long have you been collecting arcade cabinets” were prominent questions. The owner gladly obliged to answer each one of his questions, chuckling at his tones and enjoying himself as he looked back on his nostalgic lifetime.

The reporter was ready to ask his next question, opening his mouth to speak, but he had to hesitate when the man’s phone suddenly rang out in the room. Its loud ringtone caused the both of them to flinch. They had seemingly been enjoying their company and conversation for so long that they had forgotten about the outside world. “Excuse me. Mind if I take this?” he inquired, reaching and picking up his cell phone. He stood, quickly stepping toward the office door. “Oh, no, not at all!” beamed the reporter, staring at his interview notes. “I’ll review what I have so far while you’re out.” The man opened the door and stepped away, picking up the call that had rung out for the past minute. “Hello?” came his voice, but he began to step away past the door and farther out into the room, the voice fading to a silence.

The reporter was happy with the interview so far. His notepad had more than enough content to fill up a column, but he felt that there were juicy bits to this arcade that could be uncovered. There were stories untold, memories soon uncovered, and joyous occasions to praise this place for. He was questioning how to uncover those secrets, but after reviewing the quotes, he felt that it was unnecessary to impose further on the gentleman’s time. The reporter packed up his items and let out a happy sigh.

Dark invaded his vision for a split second, sending a chill down his spine. The light in the office had gone out, and from looking out the door to the office, he could tell that the rest of the lights in the arcade had gone out. He clutched his items close to his person, waiting silently in the dark, but as quick as the lights had gone out, light filled the room he was in again. It was suddenly bright again. The reporter had to shield his eyes and wait for them to get used to the light. What had happened? Power outages were rare in such a small town. Did a fuse break? The reporter was eager to find the owner and investigate the cause with him, but as he reached for the door to the office, a buzzing rose at the corner of the desk.

The reporter whirled around at the sudden noise, staring straight at the pager as it came to life on the opposite side of the desk. It beeped and buzzed with urgency, but the reporter was ready to up and flee instead of sticking around to wait for the owner to come back. However, his curiosity only burned as he stepped closer to the desk to peer at the pager’s screen before it could go dark. The screen was clearly read with its LED display, though its words were obviously confusingly disturbing. “Everything is dying?” echoed the reporter to the screen in a shaky whisper. At this point, his fight or flight response was telling him to get right out of there. His curiosity pushed on, waiting to see if another message would buzz in disregard to that one message. The screen suddenly lit up again and vibrated gently against the desk’s surface. “Don’t play with.. The Devil,” he read, shivers dancing down his spine. Someone was obviously having fun with their messaging. He decided to stay for one more message, wishing for a resolution. The screen dimmed for a second before immediately buzzing again. The reporter leaned over, but he decided enough was enough. He started to march straight for the arcade door with the interview notes held tightly in his hands. To his comfort, the door at the front swung right open, and he could escape from such a creepy instance without much hassle. The last message hung in his mind as he walked off from the arcade. “Blood will fall,” he confusedly mumbled a few times over as if there were a taste to the words that he was trying to get used to. He shrugged at the sounds, deciding that it was simply not enough to get scared over.


End file.
